


Sweet Nothin's

by FountainsOfSilver



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bar Room Brawl, Dwalin Feels, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hopeless Romantic, Longing, Minor Injuries, Oral Sex, Overprotective Dwarves, Romance, Sentimental Dwalin, Sex, Smut, Touch-Starved, Touching, barmaid trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 14:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FountainsOfSilver/pseuds/FountainsOfSilver
Summary: Dwalin has a sweet tooth and it's been aching his entire life.





	Sweet Nothin's

The bar was in chaos. Who knew who threw the first punch or why? Who cared? The place was overcrowded and humans were altogether the wrong kind of rowdy when they got some drinks in them. There were fists, furniture, and people flying everywhere. Dwalin usually liked a good brawl, but he had been fighting orcs for days as a convoy escort and he had really just wanted to drink some stout ale, smoke his pipe, and maybe discreetly ogle the barmaid with the fiery hair and great rack.

“You’re too old to be sparkin’.” He muttered to himself as he watched her weave across the room. Some lad reached out and grabbed her backside and she jumped as if she would never have expected such a thing in such a place. Damn it, he thought. He had always been a sucker for a damsel in distress. Even when he was a wee lad he loved the stories about the princess being rescued, though he supposed it was because the lad doing the rescuing always got the girl for his efforts. For all his gruff exterior, Dwalin had the unpolished heart of a romantic. His most secret wish would be to have some bonnie lassie look up at him with gratitude for her savior in her eyes. He’d be a goner if he got the likes of that!

He wasn’t going to have this bonnie lassie looking up at him though. She was a full head taller than him. Height didn’t make any difference to Dwalin, for a dwarf he was very tall, taller than any dwarf he’d ever stood beside. It seemed to make a huge difference to human lasses for some reason though. He’d seen them turn down men taller than them for being too short. He didn’t see what height had to do with loving at all. Except that when he stood he was face to chest with most human females and he wouldn’t deny he didn’t mind that so much. He wouldn’t mind it with this one at all, he noted as she leaned forward to drop off his drink.

“Oh no!” She looked into his mug with a frown. “It spilled out.” She said, her breasts threatening to spill from the low cut top.

Dwalin quickly diverted his eyes back to her face when she looked up.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” She asked. Sometimes calling them sweet names made them a little less likely to be mad when their order was messed up. He looked like the type you definitely wouldn’t want mad at you. He looked a little angry already. The other barmaid had handed off this order to her, not wanting to deal with the rough looking dwarf.

“Dwalin.” He said as a nearby table erupted in laughter.

“Darlin’?” She asked. Was he correcting her calling him sweetie? Was he saying he’d rather be called darling? Or was he calling her darling? Or was he actually saying that was his name? She could barely hear him with all the ruckus, she was sure it was probably the same for him, though dwarves seemed to have very large ears.

He chuckled. “You can call me darlin’ if you want to. And what’s your name, lassie?”

She laughed softly realizing she’d somehow misunderstood, but he wasn’t so grim as the other barmaid had thought. His eyes were bright with amusement. No time to figure out what he actually said. “Folks around here call me Honey. I must have spilled half of your drink when that fellow grabbed me. What did you order, Darlin’?” She asked with a bright smile to match his eyes. “I’ll make it right.”

Dwalin’s mind processed quickly. Part of him didn’t want her to have to walk through that rough lot again being grabbed by any man with eyeballs enough to appreciate her looks, but she’d have to walk through it again regardless and wouldn’t it be nice if she came back to him? “I think I might like somethin’ sweet, Honey.”

She smiled at him and that was sure enough the kind of sweetness he wanted. Although… when she turned and bounded away, his eyes following her hungrily, he didn’t much mind that sweetness either. He mentally cursed the full skirts that swirled about her hips. He wanted to know if the back side truly was as sweet as the front.

Where’s your mind at, Dwalin? He asked himself. This isn’t some dwarrowdam you can court. A lad was blessed fortunate if some dam came along and claimed him as her One for there weren’t enough to go around. Most lads never paid it any mind if it never happened, but it felt like it had been playing in the back of his mind since he was a young lad. At 150 years old, he figured he was more than halfway through his life and half his life ago she should have shown herself. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been keeping his eyes on the lookout for her. It was just the honest truth that every lass had a One, but most lads had nothing. With every year his heart became more resentful and reluctantly resigned to the fact that he might just be one of those lads.

And just what would a little sweetness with her hurt? She would probably reject him anyway and no harm done with a little flirting. And if she didn’t? He watched her take the long way around to get back to him to avoid the lad from before for what good it did her. She wasn’t much like a dwarf at all, but she had some lush curves he wouldn’t mind getting a firm grip on. It seemed as though nearly every other lad she passed had the same notion though they acted on it. If she accepted him, he’d at least get a taste of what he’d been hungry for his entire life. Wasn’t a taste better than outright starving to death? Surely something like this would not last long for her, but it would give him something to look back on fondly, a sweet memory to keep him from being bitter in the long afternoon of his remaining years.

Her sweet demeanor was about to go the way of the second mug lost. This crude fellow had jumped up and grabbed her about the waist, spinning her into his arms and the mead flew right off the tray as he began grinding against her when she didn’t notice his erection pinned between them. She’d honestly been more concerned about the ire of the dwarf who had been more than patient thus far. She’d felt his eyes on her as she’d moved through the crowd. His gaze didn’t feel like the leer of every other man in the place. She had glanced up when tapping the mead and saw the glint of his eyes beneath the dark shadow of his heavily knitted and scarred brows. He was breathtakingly fierce to look upon.

She struggled and managed to get her tray between the two of their heads to keep his slobbering lips off her. She gave a quick forward tap feeling the bottom of her tray come into contact with his nose. He released her to grab his face and she darted away while she could.

Somehow during this more fighting and brawling had started. She decided she would take three mugs to the dwarf as this would be her third attempt to get his drink to him and he was probably growing furious and no doubt thirsty. She couldn’t do all this work and have it take so long and still not get a tip. What a loss this night was already. She couldn’t see him when she tapped the mead this time as the fighting was starting to move across the room. Well, she was furious too. She was tired of moving back and forth across a sea of grabbing and groping hands. The next one to touch her was going to get worse than a broken nose.

Dwalin had seen enough of these rough lads manhandling his damsel and had jumped up before his second mug had hit the floor. He hastened his pace when he saw that lecherous lad rubbing up against her. Men infuriated him. They had such nerve as to go on at length about the rudeness of dwarves, but no dwarf would put his hands or any other part of his body on a lass in such a manner without her approval first. He was part pleased when she had managed to pry the man off her, bloodying his nose in the process, and part disappointed that he wouldn’t get to rescue her after all.

The lad turned to grab her as she slipped by and Dwalin hooked the man’s ankle and jerked it back flipping the man forward into another table full of drunks. Madness erupted and he squeezed through unnoticed as the rude fellow was getting his ass handed to him by the other table and his friends jumped in. Next thing he knew the entire place had erupted and he chuckled to himself as he moved alongside the fracas to the bar.

Oh no, lass, he thought as he saw her with her tray of drinks make her way back out from behind the bar and through the battle in an effort to return to him. It had been a disaster when she was trying to get to him through the groping men, but she was much more agile moving through the fighting bodies as if this was more of a dance whose tune she heard. Still, she was in great danger as the fight became more heated and objects started flying.

Dwalin too knew this tune and he darted through the melee like a dancer who knew all the steps. He leapt up and tackled her just as someone behind her was swinging a chair at someone else, but would have caught her in the backswing. He shielded her head as he rolled with her under a table. He held her to him as things became even more violent around them.

If she was furious before, it was nothing to now. The mead had spilled AGAIN. This time it had spilled all over the front of her and she was well aware that now her cream colored top was now sheer. And the perpetrator of this crime was trying to feel her up under the table. He held her in place and unlike the previous fellow, she could distinctly feel his arousal against her backside as he held her very tightly against it. No matter how she struggled, his arms were like a vice around her and she could not get free.

Dwalin gripped her not sure why she was struggling so hard. He started to tell her to calm down but she elbowed him right in the gut and knocked the wind out of him. It didn’t help that battle always excited him a little and wrestling with her excited him a lot. Damn, but her curves felt better than he had imagined though thinking like that was not helping matters as she wriggled and writhed in his arms.

Did he mean to take her here beneath the table and amidst the brawling drunks? It would seem her fate would be not unlike her mother’s if she permitted such a thing. No, she would fight. There was nothing to do but fight. This would not be the end of her!

For a moment she stilled in his arms and Dwalin was pleased that she had finally calmed herself.

Yes! His arms relaxed when she stilled and she suddenly twisted in them and not having her arms free did the only thing she could, she bit into the first thing she came in contact with as hard as she could and having found hold on some part on him jerked her head tearing off a piece of him.

He roared and let her loose then. She scrambled out from under the table. Oh, but things were worse in the tavern than she realized. Half of the room was now on fire. Some were trampling others to escape, some were still so drunk with battle that they fought on. She felt a hand on her ankle and realized her mistake in hesitating, but before she could stomp him, she felt a sharp pain in the side of her head followed by an eery ringing in her ears. So strange that was all she could hear with so much going on around her. She choked on something in her throat and for a moment didn’t know if she was going to choke to death, die of smoke inhalation, or die of the blow she finally realized she had taken to the side of her head.

Dwalin pulled himself out from under the table quick enough to catch her fall. He didn’t know if he should be grateful she was unconscious as she was no longer struggling and biting off ears or if he should be worried about the large gash on the side of her head. No time for emotions, only time for action. He held her as close to him as he could, put his head down, and ran flinging himself out a window that had already been broken out in the fight.

He found another inn that was not on fire, and rented a room for the night. He was rather irritable to the innkeeper who suggested the dwarf had done something untoward to the girl and was about to do something further unconscionable. After seeing men taking such liberties with this fine lass throughout the evening and him only wanting to rescue her, Dwalin was about at his end. He had never gotten a drink either and looking down at her soaked sheer top he felt mighty thirsty. It clung to her milky skin and sweet little pink berry buds in such a way that his mouth suddenly felt very dry. Still, he was a dwarf. He might have thought things, but he would never. The innkeeper caved to Dwalin’s dark looks and handed him the key to a room at the far end of the place. Dwalin wanted to throttle him for insinuating such a thing of a dwarf and also for not doing something about it if he thought Dwalin truly intended the girl ill.

Dwalin set her up in a chair near the bed, propping her up with pillows. He remembered Oin saying that the concussed person should not be allowed to sleep for a good long while. He was pretty sure she was concussed. She was also unconscious. He splashed cold water in her face and she sputtered and coughed. He gave her some hearty slaps on the back. He hadn’t meant to drown her too. Now if she would just look up at him with that gratitude in her eyes for saving her, he would count this as the best day of his life.

Except she looked up at him with such a fiery look that he was sure she was about to try and do battle with him again. For some reason that fire in those green eyes did him in just as surely as the gratitude would have. But all the same, he did not want her afraid or fighting mad.

“Now Honey, I had to get you out of that place. It’s too dangerous for a good lass like yourself.” He said, turning to reach for the water to pour her a glass. “Here, have a drink.”

“My shift wasn’t over. I haven’t made a coin all night. I have to go back.”

“Afraid there’s naught to go back to, lassie. Place was kindlin’ when we left. It’s sure to be embers and ash by mornin’.” He nudged the water glass toward her again.

“What are your intentions?” She asked cautiously. Her head was still spinning and she didn’t dare try to run for it just yet. She knew she wouldn’t get far with this one. She needed a moment to regain clarity.

“To keep you awake for a good long bit. Don’t want you goin’ to the big sleep because of that knock you took to the head. I assure you, my intentions are honorable.” He glanced down at her breasts without intending to. “For the most part.”

“What do you mean, for the most part?” She asked.

He felt guilty for gawking at her when he should be tending her wounds and he filled the basin with water and sitting in front of her on the bed, took a cloth and gently cleaned her wound.

“Honey, you’re more than a tempting mouthful for any lad, much less an old dwarf who’s been wantin’ a lass of his own for far too long.”

“Please. Don’t tell me you’re like all those drunks at the bar, just lookin’ for a way to get under my skirts.” She said, reeling from the slight pressure of the cloth against her temple.

“Careful now, lass.” He noticed her unsteadiness and put one hand on her shoulder. “Oh aye, I’d love to get up under your skirts. I won’t deny it. But I’m not goin’ anywhere without permission and you’ve been knocked on the head pretty good.”

“Why don’t you go home to your harem then?” She grumped. Her head hurt and she knew he was trying to help her somehow through the pain. She also had a pretty good idea he wasn’t going to do anything she didn’t want or he would have while she was unconscious or immediately upon her waking.

“What’s a harem?” Dwalin asked.

“Your hall where you keep all of your wives and concubines.” She said, closing her eyes against the pain and regretting it for feeling the room start to spin.

Dwalin let out a bellow of laughter. “Wives? Concubines? Where’s this nonsense comin’ from?”

“I’ve heard dwarven women are kept locked up in great halls and hoarded like gems. That you count your wealth in gold and wives. How many do you have? 20? 50?”

Dwalin laughed at this. “It is quite the opposite.” He decided to tell her about how few dwarven women there were that the choice was completely theirs and how he had after so many years of hoping to catch the eye of any of them had all but given up. He told her how dwarves have their One and they do not settle for anything less, but some lads did not have a One and how sad that made him to be alone so long and all of it in longing to only find there was no one for him. He spent the evening telling her quite a fair bit of dwarven culture that the tight-lipped, reclusive race did not share. If outsiders would think they had dozens of women each, no dwarf would deny that. Virtually nothing was known about dwarves, because they liked it that way. Dwarves did not share their information, much less themselves, with any outside race.

“Why are you telling me this then?” She asked.

Dwalin looked at her meaningfully and gave her a small smile. “Can’t you see? If I don’t have a One among the dwarrowdams, I would choose a One for myself.”

“I suppose it is similar for elves.” She mused, not fully catching the meaning in his words in her current state. “Elves mate for life.”

Dwalin chuckled. “Can’t say I care one bit for elves, but they get that one thing right anyway.”

She turned her head and tucked her hair behind a slightly pointed ear.

“Y-you’re an elf?” Dwalin choked. “You aren’t built like any elf maid I’ve ever seen.”

“Half-elf.” She explained.

“I see.” Dwalin said slowly and turned to rinse the blood out of the cloth in the water basin. “I reckon you’ve got a One out there amongst the elves somewhere then.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s a One when you’re only a half. I suppose I’m in the same boat as you, Darlin’.”

He turned back to her. “It’s Dwalin, son of Fundin, though I have to confess I much prefer Darlin’ comin’ from those sweet lips of yours.” He felt a silly little flutter in his heart when he saw her blush at that and he turned away with a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Just the same, the way you’re put together you wouldn’t have trouble at all grabbin’ a Man.”

“I have altogether too much trouble with them grabbin’ on me.”

“So I’ve noticed.” He chuckled and stood to bandage her head.  
  
“It’s not funny.” She cried. “Ugh, it’s a curse.”  
  
“Your curse will be some Man’s blessing some day.”  
  
“I can’t say I care much for Men.” She replied.  
  
He finished with the bandage and let his fingertips skim down her cheek to her jaw and drew her face up to look at him. “What about dwarves, lass? Might you fancy a dwarf?”  
  
“Are you drunk?” She asked, well accustomed to the drunken propositions of men.  
  
“Now Honey, you know better’n any other I haven’t had a drop all evenin’.” He said. “Although I am mighty thirsty.” His head slowly lowered to hers, but he wouldn’t do a thing until she gave indication of permission.  
  
“I didn’t mean to insult you.” She said feeling the warmth of him so close. “I mean, what about your One?”  
  
“I’d choose this one before me.” He whispered and tilted his forehead to rest against hers, “if my Chosen One would have me?”  
  
She tilted her head and closed her eyes as their noses touched and she brushed them against each other. Dwalin let out a deep sigh at this smallest of affectionate gestures. She waited half a moment and said, “Don’t you know?”  
  
“What’s that?” He breathed, not wanting to chance messing anything up, not wanting to wake himself from what felt like a dream.  
  
She brushed her nose against his again. “That means yes.”  
  
“Does it?” He whispered. His heart was so full of joy. This was more than he had hoped for.  
  
She did it again.  
  
“Mmm, what language is that?” He asked.  
  
“The language of us.” She replied. “You know it too.”

Dwalin thought he would melt into a pool at her feet. He would be a fool for this one. He didn’t even care. He would be whatever she desired. “It seems you are fluent and I only a beginner. Will you teach me this language?” She nuzzled him again and he laughed. “Or do you only know the one word?”  
  
She giggled. “We’re writin’ it right now.”  
  
“And me without a quill.” Dwalin smirked.  
  
“You’ll have to write it in here.” Honey said putting her hand on his chest above his thumping heart. She then put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed gently. “Pay attention.”  
  
“Oh lassie, you’ve got my complete attention.” Dwalin drawled.  
  
She smiled, suppressing a laugh. “No, this means: pay attention.” She squeezed his shoulders again. “Any of these things can be a question or a statement or a command. To know you have to pay very close attention.” She squeezed his shoulders again and this time he felt the pressure of her fingernails in the touch. **_Pay very close attention_.** “Understand?”  
  
He leaned forward and nuzzled her. **_Yes_.**  
  
She reached up and touched his cheek, letting her fingertips disappear in his beard and let her thumb make one lingering stroke across his lower lip.  
  
Dwalin trembled at this touch. This language was going to end him. “What does that mean?”  
  
“Kiss me, Dwalin.”  
  
He slowly leaned forward and it took what felt like a delicious eternity before their lips met. In not wanting this to end soon, he lingered over the beginning. He was also quite thrilled to hear her say his name, despite his earlier comment. Darlin’ meant darlin’, but when she said Dwalin it meant so much more.

His kisses were far more gentle than she could have credited him for. He made her feel like some delicate, precious thing. Endlessly it seemed they kissed and when he finally pulled away he took two deep, quivering breaths and leaned in and kissed her some more.  
  
She reached up to stroke his hair and he winced at her touch. Nothing else would have made him break contact.  
  
“What’s wrong?” She asked and then saw the blood on her left hand. She leapt up. “Ah!”  
  
“It’s not a big deal, lass. Don’t trouble yourself.” He said. He hadn’t had a chance to assess the damage yet, but that was because he had more important things on his mind and in his arms.  
  
“Not a big deal? Half your ear is gone!” She cried.  
  
“Not so much as that, eh?” He asked and went to look in the mirror. “That’s not half. A quarter, third at most.” He teased. “You must have been mighty hungry to try and make a meal of me.”  
  
“Were you the one under the table?” She gasped when he nodded. Suddenly she understood that he had never meant harm to her, but was trying rather clumsily to rescue her. “Oh Darlin’! I am SO SORRY! Oh, you need a doctor.”  
  
He grabbed her around the waist when she began trying to rush him through the door. “Honey.” He reached up and squeezed her shoulders. _**Pay attention**_. “Honey.” He squeezed them again a little tighter. _**Please pay attention**_.  
  
She stopped and looked down at him with concern.  
  
He smiled. How nice it was to have someone worry after him. “It’s all right.” He said calmly.  
  
She shook her head. “No, it’s not.”  
  
He slid his hand alongside her jaw and behind her neck, pulling her down to him. He nuzzled against her face. _**Yes**_. “It’s all right.” _**Yes. Yes**_. “I’ll bandage it up if it worries you so.”  
  
Dwalin bandaged his ear while she looked at him worriedly.

“I’m sorry.” She said again and again.  
  
“Lass, dwarves are proud of every scar from every battle we’ve been in. It means we’ve lived life like a dwarf should. I shouldn’t be any less proud of that battle damage than any other. More so as it was the sweetest battle ever fought. I will always look upon it and remember fondly.” He sat beside her on the bed and smiled at her. “May I braid your hair?”  
  
She nodded and Dwalin took out a bead he had been carrying in his interior breast pocket for countless years. Just in case he ever found a lass that would have anything to do with him he had intended to put a bead in her hair before she could change her mind. He wasn’t so good at braiding, but he had the basics down for just such an occasion. His hands shook a bit when he slid the bead on the end. “My sweetest battle, now my sweetest victory.”  
  
“Does that mean something?” She asked. The stupid knock to her head had her reacting slowly. Clearly from the importance he seemed to place on the act this was more than just putting a braid in her hair.  
  
Dwalin smirked. “It means you’ve entered a courtship with me and too late to back out now, because you already agreed to it, lassie.” He chuckled. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to add something to our language.” He indicated, holding the bead and gently kissing the braid. “You’re mine.” He whispered and then kissed the braid again. _**You’re mine**_.  
  
She reached over and ever so gently kissed his ear. “You’re mine.” She kissed it again. _**You’re mine**_.  
  
“Aye. I’m yours.” He put his forehead on hers again. “This means understand.” And it came to mean all things to knowing the other: understand me, I want to understand, I want to know you, know what I mean and how I feel.

They sat there for a long time in this manner. They had marked each other for themselves and they just basked in the moment of it. She felt safer by his side than she had ever felt in her life. She also felt as though something missing had been found. Dwalin’s heart was filled to the brim with joy and he felt more complete with her just sitting beside him than he had ever felt in a hall of friends and kin. She was his One, his Chosen One. There was no difference in the meaning anymore. His heart was claimed.  
  
He put his hand alongside her face and slid his rough thumb across her bottom lip. _**Honey, kiss me**_.  
  
She looked at him a long moment and he just looked back at her gently. She slowly moved to straddle him and took his face in her hands. Dwalin’s heart thundered in his chest at this simple action and he wondered if he was the one concussed when his mind reeled from her kiss. She slid her tongue in his gasping mouth and she wordlessly taught him this silent language as well. They kissed until daylight shone through the little window in their room.   
  
“You hungry, sweet Honey?” Dwalin asked, but she kissed him again and again and he forgot the question.   
  
She pulled off her blouse while he looked at her with a drunk confusion. Dwalin could swear he’d never been so drunk in his life and he hadn’t had a drink in at least two days. She pulled at the clasps that held the straps that crossed his chest and held the scabbard for his axes and he dimly watched her fingers at their work.   
  
“Come on, Darlin’. Aren’t you gonna help me?” She asked with a light laugh as she began on his belt buckle.   
  
Dwalin took her hands and held them firmly. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage, Honey.”  
  
“I got knocked in the head, I’m not drunk, you know?” She laughed.   
  
He looked up at her shyly. “Don’t you think we should slow down?”  
  
She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. “How slow do you want to go?”  
  
His eyes were glazed from her slow sweep across his mouth. She wasn’t sure if he was thinking of an answer or trying to remember what they were talking about. She was patient.  
  
“I’m not sure.” He answered hesitantly. Dwalin was always sure. He always knew his mind. Why was he struggling in this moment?  
  
She took the braid he had put into her hair and kissed it. _**Am I not yours?**_

She was taller and sitting on his lap yet, but he nuzzled against her neck and gently touched the braid. _**Yes. You are mine**_. She smelled good, like honey mead. Mmm, the sweet drink she had promised him earlier. He kissed her neck, his tongue flicking out in exploration. She tilted her head back to give him access as he felt her take a deep intake of breath. Mm, she tasted good. He licked and sucked at her skin, making his way down the creamy flesh. He became more greedy with thirst, his tongue making long paths and then lapping at her skin as his hands cautiously went from around her waist to rise up and rest just beneath her breasts, cradling them.   
  
His hands slid from there around her back and he flipped her onto her back on the bed. His mouth covered first one pink bud and then the other, sucking the dried honey mead and licking her clean as he began pulling at his pants. They dropped to the floor and he pulled off her just long enough to rip his shirt over his head and fling it aside. His large hands grabbed her about her waist and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Dwalin’s hands slipped down her hips, thighs, down to her knees where, looking her in the eyes, his hands began to scrunch her skirt up until the hem was at her knees. His fingers slid down beneath the hem and hooking his thumb over the top he slowly pushed it up, his rough hands pressing against her flesh as he gathered the skirt about her waist. In a simple reversal of motion, his hands pulled her panties slowly the opposite direction until they were on the floor somewhere near his own abandoned clothing.  
  
Leaning forward and pressing his hard length against her, he drew his thumb ever so slowly across her lip. _**May I kiss you, Honey?**_  
  
She nodded before his thumb had finished its path and he kept a questioning look in his eyes as he looked at her and let his thumb travel down her neck, across her collarbone, between her breasts, down her belly, over one hip and down her thigh only to change direction and go up her inner thigh, and then one velvet thumbstroke between her legs that made her gasp.   
  
_**May I kiss you here?**_ That questioning look was in his eyes and she felt his thumb sweep across her again. _**May I kiss you here?**_

She could do nothing but nod. She thought he would start at her mouth and follow the path he had laid out, but she had no more time to think about it or anticipate the inevitable end location when he dropped to his knees and began kissing between her legs.   
  
“Mmm, my sweet Honey…” He growled as he lapped at her again and again making her rich nectar flow as she screamed in orgasm after orgasm.  
  
“Please…” She panted. “Please, Dwalin. Oh, Dwalin! DWALIN! AAHHHH!”  
  
He loved making her scream his name over and over, but he could tell he was wearing her out. She had been through a lot and she wasn’t a dwarf after all. He would get great pleasure in slowly building her stamina to match his over time, he thought as he now kissed the path his thumb had taken all the way to her mouth. She returned his kisses, breathing heavily from the exertion of so much pleasure.   
  
_**May I?**_ He asked in their language of touch.  
  
 _ **YES, OH YES!**_ Her touches replied.  
  
He pressed himself slowly into her. He was large and thick and she was pulsing tight from coming so rapidly. His cock had to force her wider every inch of the way to accommodate him. Her wet heat squeezed him, the friction of constriction created a sweet sensation along his shaft that would not cease. Onward he pressed until finally the full length of him was within her while he simultaneously leaned into her with all he had and pulled her down onto him, his fingers digging into her hips. He slowly slid almost all the way out, looking at his glistening length dripping with the pleasure he had given her earlier. He pressed forward again, again forcing his way into that tight hold. No matter how much she tightened around him, he would not be stopped because he was wet with her warm honey and determined to feel the stimulation on every last inch.   
  
She watched him bite his lower lip as he watched himself sink deep into her and withdraw, slowly again and again like a well oiled piston. He was so sexy. His every muscle flexed tensed with anticipation glistened with a light sheen of sweat as he forced himself to put all of his focus on that slow, determined movement. She could do nothing more than gasp at how good every bit of him felt and how turned on she was by him.   
  
“DWALIN!” She screamed again and he had not expected this orgasm from her. She gripped him even tighter inside and he felt a flood of wet warmth.   
  
He had to jerk hard back and forth to keep moving and his thrusts became faster and more insistent as he felt he was reaching for something. He was almost there! “Ahmmm!” His gasp turned into a moan and he began grinding harder against her. Again she screamed, but this time incoherently as her orgasm rebounded and hit another level. He was slamming into her hard and, “GRRRRRRRRAAAAA!” It all exploded from him, his eyes closed tight and his teeth clenched. “MM! Nnn! Nnn! Nnn!” He groaned as he gave his last forceful thrusts.

Near to all of his strength left him as he fell to his elbows panting, his heart like thunder in his chest. He rested his forehead against her breastbone and when he was sure he would not die from the pleasure of her, he slid his arms beneath her and held her tight, gasping with joy.  
  
He looked up at her with such a look of gratitude that it touched her heart and she couldn’t help but smile and laugh, full of their shared happiness. Dwalin laughed too then, a great booming laugh, and rolled onto his back pulling her along to be on top of him.   
  
They then spoke of their affection for each other in the language of them adding more and more touches to their vocabulary until Dwalin, overcome with emotion at her wordless communication and full of desire from the accompanying touches, took her twice more before letting her sleep safe in his arms.

[The end, for now...]

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my Tumblr for updates and to vote on upcoming stories:  
> https://fountainsofsilver.tumblr.com/


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